In years past, when the Earl’s residence had suffered under the contempt of others, the two brothers had buried themselves in study to uphold the family name.
The elder brother charged ahead, and the younger brother pursued close behind. Master Duan had worried that Shaojin was still young and his temperament unsteady — that forcing him to rush forward would be no different from pulling up a seedling to make it grow faster. And so he had brought Shaojin to Mangshan Temple, using the line “When spring blooms have faded from the world below, the mountain monastery’s peach trees burst into bloom” to guide him, urging him not to seek flowering before the season had arrived.
And it had caused Shaojin to slow his steps.
The events of those younger years remained etched in Shaojin’s heart.
Now, three years after his elder brother had claimed the title of Zhuangyuan, he too had risen to the head of the golden list and taken the top honor. Season after season, the peach blossoms kept their beauty unchanged, yet the graceful young boy had become someone quite different. Today, at this very moment, Shaojin could finally say to his master those words: “The peach trees are in bloom.”
The master reached out and caught several loose petals as they drifted down. His face was full of joy, and he said with feeling, “Whether it is the peach tree below the mountain already bearing fruit, or the peach blossoms at the summit in their fullest glory — flowers bloom and flowers fall, and all of it is spring.”
He gazed into the distance and continued, “In those years of tending and cultivating, I was content simply to have planted two or three trees before the hall — what more could one ask than that the world be filled with peach and plum trees?” To have Shaohuai, Shaojin, and a few others like Yancheng and Yangui — that was enough.
Shaojin laughed and said, “Master is like ‘a thatched cottage outside the city of Suzhou, ten thousand peach trees beneath a sky full of moon.’” All that talent, hidden away in the ordinary world.
The mountaintop was cold and damp, and Shaojin did not dare let the master linger too long. After they had taken in the splendor of the peach grove, he said, “Master, let us head back.”
The master nodded.
On the way down, Shaojin said to him, “Master — my elder brother… he is to leave the capital for an outside post.” Once he set out next year, he would be gone for years, and there was no knowing when he would return.
Master Duan showed no surprise. Instead, he gave a nod of quiet satisfaction. “One cannot gain depth without venturing far,” he said. “And without depth, how can one become a true abyss? A young man carries the fire of great ambition — his moment of great deeds will come in its own time. Boyuan was born within this city, but he does not belong only to this city.”
“I will not fail my elder brother’s efforts and sacrifice,” Shaojin said.
“That you can understand his intentions is enough.”
Busy days pass with particular swiftness, and in what seemed like no time at all, the day arrived for Pei Shaojin to welcome home his bride from the Lu family.
Candles blazed across the entire city, and pipes and drums rang out to greet the new marriage.
Pei Shaojin had been appointed by the court to the position of Hanlin Compiler, a rank-six post. For his wedding day, he was dressed in a brand-new sixth-rank official robe — beneath it, an inner garment with a standing collar, white trim running from neck to hem; over it, a round-collar robe in blue-green, with an egret rank badge on the chest, a leather belt at the waist, and black satin official boots on his feet.
Shaojin had inherited Concubine Shen’s fair complexion, and dressed in this blue-green official robe, he looked all the more refined and scholarly, carrying himself with an air of quiet literary elegance.
The wedding procession was ready and waiting — once the auspicious hour arrived, Shaojin would mount his horse. As he watched the shadow on the sundial grow gradually longer, Shaojin began to feel nervous, repeatedly smoothing his robes to keep them crease-free, his lips moving in a quiet murmur.
Nothing at all like the calm and composure he displayed in the examination hall.
Pei Shaohuai, seeing his younger brother so flustered and anxious, felt a wave of amusement. He thought back to his own wedding day, when his brother had come back and forth endlessly with refreshments and eaten them with great relish right in front of him. And so Pei Shaohuai decided he would return the favor.
He made a point of bringing out the pastries that Shaojin loved best, then scooped up Xiao Feng in his arms and, using the child as a pretext, said with a grin, “Xiao Feng — these are your Second Uncle’s absolute favorite pastries. Pick one up and bring it to him so he can have something in his stomach.”
Xiao Feng cooperated with remarkable precision, grabbing a pastry with her small hand and holding it out toward her second uncle.
When a niece offers a gift, an uncle can hardly refuse. Shaojin was just reaching out to take it when Xiao Feng pulled her hand back, tucked the pastry against herself, and refused to give it to her second uncle after all.
Then she smiled at him.
Having been teased so thoroughly by his elder brother and niece together, Shaojin finally loosened up somewhat, and his nerves settled considerably.
The distant mountains glowed in the evening sun, and birds flew home in pairs. The auspicious hour had come. Music rose into the air, and Pei Shaojin mounted his horse and rode toward the Lu family’s residence to escort the bride home.
From the tea houses along the streets, a great many scholars crowded together like ordinary townsfolk to watch. The reason was simple: the new Zhuangyuan was wedding Lu Yiyao, the celebrated young woman of the capital — whether it was the “Zhuangyuan” or the “celebrated young woman,” there was certainly plenty to talk about.
A top scholar winning the heart of a gifted beauty — it was the most familiar plot in any storyteller’s repertoire.
On the other side of the city, the Lu family was sending off their daughter in magnificent and splendid fashion. Even now that the wedding day itself had arrived, friends and relatives continued to arrive in an unbroken stream to present congratulatory gifts and add to the dowry.
The well-wishing guests crowded the gates, and the celebration was even more lively than when the Lu family had welcomed their own daughter-in-law.
In the inner chamber, Lu Yiyao wore her great red bridal robe, with the ceremonial cloud-shawl draped across her shoulders. The phoenix coronet had not yet been placed upon her head. The spirited, charming young girl who had once dared to take the initiative and kiss Shaojin had, with the years, acquired a certain dignified composure.
Yet her nature was unchanged. She listened carefully to every sound from the courtyard outside, and from time to time stole a glance toward the door.
The Lu family’s grandmother smoothed the final strand of her granddaughter’s hair into place, tucking every wisp from around the forehead into the elaborate bun. Her eyes were faintly red, and she spoke with the gravity of long experience: “Yaо’er, from this day forward you are to be wed to the second son of the Pei family as his wife. The things your grandmother has told you — hold them firmly in your heart.”
The old Madam Lu repeated her instructions once more. “In this city of the capital, for any family that has legitimate-born children who show promise, it is rare for them to pour their efforts into nurturing those born of concubines. That the Pei family is an exception speaks to the integrity of their family character. Whatever happened in the Earl’s residence before has nothing to do with you — but having received the honor of marrying a Zhuangyuan today, you must think hereafter about repaying some of that goodwill on your husband’s behalf, lest he be placed in a difficult position.”
She also said, “Your grandfather taught you to read and write, and you have earned something of a reputation for your talents — that is a fine thing. But you must not let this empty reputation make you arrogant or aloof within the household.”
Lu Yiyao was marrying into the Pei family, where she would be expected to serve her husband’s official mother as her own mother-in-law. The old Madam Lu could not help but press these reminders upon her. A daughter-in-law’s position had always been a difficult one — and the position of a concubine-born son’s wife was more difficult still. Her worries were entirely understandable.
“Grandmother, I understand,” Lu Yiyao replied.
As they were speaking, a faint sound of music drifted over from the distance, growing gradually louder — the wedding procession had arrived. After the space of roughly a quarter of an hour, noise broke out at the main gate; the Lu family was performing the traditional blocking of the groom, with the groom answering each challenge in turn, and bursts of loud acclaim rang out at intervals.
When Lu Yiyao imagined Pei Shaojin responding to each challenge with ease and flowing composure, a flush of shyness spread across her face.
The blocking festivities were drawing to a close when a voice rang out: “We ask the groom to compose the bridal urging poem—”
Before long, the poem was delivered to great and repeated cries of praise, making everyone curious about what manner of verse it was. The poem was then sent into the inner chamber and placed in Lu Yiyao’s hands.
Lu Yiyao’s red lips parted slightly as she read it in a soft voice: “The music hastens the hour — so little time remains, yet after the wedding cup is shared, the night stretches long ahead. The auspicious moment draws near and your makeup is not yet done — no matter, for Pei will be there himself to draw your brows.”
The poem conveyed this meaning: today is the wedding day; he has come to escort her with music all the way, but the day is nearly spent and the hour for receiving the bride grows short. Fortunately, once the ceremonial cup has been shared, the night still holds many long hours. Since the auspicious moment must not be missed, if the bride has not yet completed her makeup, there is no need to worry — with the night stretching out before them, her husband will be there to paint her eyebrows for her by candlelight.
With this playful little verse, he urged the bride to quickly finish her preparations, take up her veil, and return home with him — which was precisely the essence of a “bridal urging poem.”
Within the poem, the line where Shaojin offered to paint her brows himself as his way of urging her along was rather delightful, and no wonder it drew such repeated acclaim from the crowd.
“Always so full of clever words,” Lu Yiyao said with a soft laugh, folding the paper and tucking it into her sleeve. The old Madam Lu placed the phoenix coronet on her head and lowered the red veil over her face.
After all the many rites had been observed one by one, Pei Shaojin at last brought his beautiful bride home.
Deep in the night, the guests at the Earl’s residence gradually took their leave one after another, until only the most devoted drinkers remained, carrying on with the wine and sending up bursts of laughter from time to time.
Shaojin loved his food but not his wine, and when it came to capacity, he was even weaker than his elder brother. Knowing his own limits well, he had not dared drink too much tonight, lest it lead to embarrassment.
And because his complexion was so fair, the few cups he had drunk left both cheeks a vivid, glowing red.
So when he lifted Lu Yiyao’s veil with the ceremonial rod, and she raised her eyes to look at him, she burst out laughing.
“Second Young Master’s cheeks are even redder than the rouge on my own face.”
Whether it was the wine or a blush, there was no telling.
Pei Shaojin’s hands trembled faintly as he brought over the two cups for the ceremonial shared drink. “On a day of great joy,” he said, “should everything not be red?”
“Does the bridal urging poem Second Young Master wrote still hold good?” Lu Yiyao looked pointedly at Shaojin’s trembling hands and asked with a teasing smile. “Can Second Young Master still hold the eyebrow brush steady enough to draw a willow-leaf brow?” The poem had promised he would paint her eyebrows for her tonight, after all.
“The night is long, but painting brows would be a waste of it — why not instead…”
“Instead what?”
“Drink this cup of the shared wine first,” Shaojin answered.
The ceremonial cups clinked and fell, and in just a few words’ time, the feeling between the two of them had grown warm and deep. And since they had known each other for many years, what followed in the bridal chamber came as naturally as water finding its course.
In the lingering chill of spring, beads of perspiration still appeared; the red candles burned until the fifth watch of the night was spent.
After Shaojin’s wedding rites were complete, and once he and his wife had made the customary return visit to her family, he formally took up his post in the Hanlin Academy.
He held the rank of sixth-rank Compiler; Xu Yancheng and Yang Xiangquan were seventh-rank Revisers.
With the guidance of Pei Shaohuai, Xu Zhan, and Senior Grand Secretary Xu, Shaojin and Yancheng quickly familiarized themselves with the affairs of the National History Directorate and began participating in the compilation of the Veritable Records and taking their turns attending court.
No sooner had one joyful occasion passed than another arrived.
On this particular day, a proclamation party from the Ministry of Rites set out, leaving the Imperial Avenue and heading directly eastward through the city. At the very front, several attendants bore a red lacquer tray, upon which rested a phoenix coronet together with formal court dress, official dress, ceremonial dress, and everyday dress, each in its proper order. Behind them came attendants carrying other bestowed gifts.
Anyone with a discerning eye could recognize that this was an imperial edict conferring the title of an official lady of the outer court. Those with even wider knowledge could tell from the style of the phoenix coronet that this was a conferment at the fourth-rank level of the title “Honored Lady.”
The Ministry of Rites’ procession was not an especially large one, yet it was enough to prompt many noble households to send people out to inquire and ask after it — for while fourth-rank officials were not few in the capital, it was far less common for an official’s wife to be formally conferred a titled rank. This was a distinction of considerable honor.
Back at the Earl’s residence, Lin Shi had also heard the news. She promptly sent out Nanny Shen’s husband’s wife to inquire, saying, “Go quickly and find out which household the proclamation party is heading to.”
“Yes, Madam,” the woman replied.
Yang Shiyue and Lu Yiyao happened to have come to pay their respects that day, and Lin Shi said to them, “The conferment of a titled rank is no small matter. If that household has any connection or relationship with the Earl’s residence, we ought to select a congratulatory gift and send it along promptly, so as not to fall short in propriety.”
“As Mother says.”
In no time at all, the woman who had gone to inquire came running back, flustered yet beaming, taking such large strides that she had somewhat lost her composure. She said, “Madam — it appears… it appears to be heading this way toward the Earl’s residence!”
Lin Shi was startled. “Heading toward the Earl’s residence?”
“Yes, heading toward the Earl’s residence — they have already entered Zhenjing Street.”
There were quite a few households on Zhenjing Street, but only the Jingying Earl’s residence was worthy of receiving a personal bestowal from the Son of Heaven.
Even as they were still speaking, a young manservant came running over to report that the procession had already arrived outside the main gate. Only then did Lin Shi believe it — the title newly conferred by the Son of Heaven was indeed for the Earl’s residence.
Yang Shiyue and Lu Yiyao were still too young; the old matriarch already held her title. This new conferment could only be for Lin Shi.
Seeing Lin Shi standing slightly dazed and unmoving, Yang Shiyue walked over to her, and while helping Lin Shi tidy her collar one final time, gently reminded her, “Mother — it is time to go receive the edict.”